


Dollhouse

by GalaxyAqua



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Despair, Gen, Headcanon, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3664620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyAqua/pseuds/GalaxyAqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saionji Hiyoko. A name. Disgusting. She hates it. She hates herself. She's so small, so weak; people crush her. The only power she has is power over ants. Because they're the only things smaller and weaker than a girl like her. This kind of power comes cheap. So she exerts it. Weak overpowering the weaker. Saionji-centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dollhouse

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't felt much for Saionji during the game, but I was curious as to why she acts the way she does and how she got into Despair. Being the character that she is, I feel as though she needed a voice so I wrote this in hopes to understand her better. Eep.

She knew what she was.  
  
Useless, good-for-nothing little girl. Hopeless, clumsy, imperfect. Only talent is dancing because they made her practice 'til her feet bled. Can't even dress herself. It made the tears fall, once, when she was still able to cry properly. Stupid, fucking bitch.  
  
Saionji Hiyoko.

A name. Disgusting. She hates it. She hates herself. She's so small, so weak; people crush her. The only power she has is power over ants. Because they're the only things smaller and weaker than a girl like her.  
  
This kind of power comes cheap. So she exerts it.  
  
Weak overpowering the weaker.  
  
Has she no shame?  
  
She has it. She doesn't care. She doesn't need to care. No-one cares about her. Saionji can't do anything right. Saionji is a pretty face. Saionji is a cursed name. She is no more, no more.  
  
Attention loving, spotlight stealing, dangerous little girl.  
  
Why does she bully others? She's so mean, so cruel. Why does she knock others down before they can get back up? She's so tragic, that villainous girl. They don’t deserve it.  
  
Attention loving, spotlight stealing, dangerous little screwed over girl.  
  
She has nowhere else to go. She'll smile until her face hurts and keep smiling after that. There's nothing worse than a granddaughter who never smiles. Nothing more terrible than a granddaughter who doesn't listen. Never mind that they won’t let her see her parents. Never mind that her happiness had been stolen before she could talk.  
  
Saionji Hiyoko. Be happy. They wanted her to smile like she smiles for the magazines; the newspapers. Fake smile. Plastic smile. It's okay. They'll never know.  
  
She smiles when she can.  
  
She smiles when she can't.  
  
There is no reason for her to stop. She has no other purpose. She is an heiress and nothing more. The Saionji name will continue for the same, lifelong sequence of dance and all die a crazy, horrible death, and she is no exception.

Bad dreams, go away. Come back when she needs them – compared to reality, it’s comforting.  
  
Are the others jealous? Jealous of something like this? They poisoned her food, she could tell. She won’t die, because she won’t be eating anything tonight. They’re jealous, they say? Bastards never bother to look behind closed doors. They'll never know, they'll never know.  
  
Hiyoko. That's pretty.  
  
Is that all? Fuck pretty, it doesn't matter anyway.  
  
Traditional Dancer until the end. Traditional Dance makes her happy, because it’s the only thing she’s good at anyway. Traditions don’t break for the Traditional; she’s safe here, where her opinion doesn’t matter.  
  
How will it last after tradition fades away?  
  
Ah, her feet are so small and dainty. How does she walk?

In pain, in pain. Did anyone know that they put needles in her shoes? She’s always in pain. She wants to be the child that she looks, but they won’t let her.

“We protect things that need to be protected.”  
  
They’re liars.

Everyone lies.

She’s lying when she says the crying is fake. They’d never forgive her if she told the truth.

Don’t cry, Saionji.

She cries because she can’t help it.

Hopeless. She’s hopeless.

She doesn’t hate them. They’re not bad people. She knows that. She’s so easy to fool, isn’t she?

“What do you like, Saionji Hiyoko?”

She likes kind hearts. Nice people. Stupid people like Mioda Ibuki and lovely people like Koizumi Mahiru who don’t laugh at her, or throw money at her feet for vile, vile intentions. She uses them and she knows it. There’s no helping it. She’s too far gone to know what kindness is anyway.

“What do you want, Saionji Hiyoko?”

She wants the world to go away. They’re so cruel to her; they say they treasure pretty things but she knows – just like flowers wilt, so do their consciences. It’s why she likes stomping on pretty things equally as much as she enjoys stomping on things that disgust her.

Maybe they’re the same.

Pretty things and disgusting things.

That’s why she hates them both so much.

“Hey, Saionji Hiyoko, don’t you want the power to make them all go away? Every single one of them?”

That girl. Younger than her, but taller. Slimly built. Blue eyes. Long eyelashes. Red manicure, fresh as dawn.

She’s pretty. Her smile is on the cover of magazines; just like her own.

“Your face disgusts me.” She told the girl. She didn’t mean that, but she felt it necessary to say.

The pretty girl laughs, “How despairing. Won’t you at least answer my question?”

“Jeez, pushy.” Saionji huffs, cheeks puffing the innocent way she knows how. “You’re so unrefined. I can’t believe I’m talking to such a common, disgusting person.”

“Enoshima Junko.” The pretty girl elaborates, twirling a lock of strawberry blonde around a red-tipped finger. “You’ve got a sharp tongue, foulmouthed little girl. I like that. We could rule the school together, you and I. Maybe even the world.”

She shouldn’t have fallen for something like that. Saionji, so naïve, how could anyone want to do anything with her?

“I’m not foulmouthed or little at all!” She replies, though she mutters under her breath, “At least not anymore.”

Saionji pouts after her outburst, and something lingers in Enoshima Junko’s smile that she can’t place. The long, blonde ponytail swishes behind Saionji’s back as she clenches her fist and plays with the sweetest look she can muster.

“Just consider it,” Enoshima smirks, and she knows – she knows that she’s got the dancer on her side. She’s not controlling or cold or cruel (at least, her pretty face doesn’t betray a single thing); she just knows. “I’ll let you stomp out as many pretty things as you want. I’ll let you pay them back for everything they’ve done to you. Show them you’re more than a doll, Hiyoko. Show them that you matter.”

“I care about you more than they ever could,” Enoshima kisses her on the nose. “You’re more than your talent, Hiyoko. Show them what true despair feels like.”

She flusters. “What are you trying to say, you nasty, ugly bitch?”

Enoshima had her good.

“I’ll help you with whatever you need to make sure they never say anything terrible about you again. Because you’re …” And checkmate, Saionji never would have seen. “… one of a kind. A darling. Special. Important. Beautiful. I admire you.”

“You’re such a weirdo…! Saying those things to someone you only just met… you’re unbelievable!”

Saionji Hiyoko, did you want revenge?

Did you want the world to burn?

Did you want them to die?

No, no, no. She was a good girl. She listened and did what she was told. She never wanted to hurt anyone. She wanted to make her grandmother proud. She knew this was her life, and the life she was born to endure and she –

“Squish, squish.”

“What’re you up to, Hiyoko, sweetie?”

“Aren’t these things so pretty, big sis?” Gleaming eyes, innocent. Blood splatters all over her kimono, but her face is still flawless, smiling, fishing for praise; she acts like a child. She looks up to Enoshima for approval. “I’m going to stomp and mess them all up so they’re all over the place!”

“Oh, you make your big sis so despairingly happy!” Thin arms hold her in a quick embrace. “You’re my favorite, you precious, beautiful girl! I love you so much!”

No, no, she’s wrong. Junko is a liar. She’s no different from the others. No-one can love her; Saionji the useless, good-for-nothing little girl. Hopelessly clumsy, hopelessly imperfect. Only talent is dancing because she practiced night and day, like a doll who was tossed around and played with. Can't even dress herself and cries like a baby.

“I love you too, big sister Junko!”

Stupid, fucking bitch.


End file.
